


Maurn.

by hennethgalad



Series: Hador Lórindol. [7]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 07:32:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15680865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hennethgalad/pseuds/hennethgalad
Summary: crossing the plain of East Beleriand, they meet some wood-elves.





	Maurn.

 

   "And Elves, sir! Elves here, and Elves there! Some like kings, terrible and splendid; and some as merry as children."

 

 

   Rochallor shied like a colt when the wood-elves rose silently from the long dry grass of the plain. They were two days ride from Himring, South-East to cross the Andram, and to his surprise Hador had refused his mount and, in full armour, ran doggedly alongside them. Fingolfin frowned, it was impossible to speak with Hador, he himself could shout, but Hador, struggling to breathe steadily in the dust and heat of late summer, could scarce reply. 

   Hador was altered since Himring, Gildis too had seemed to age, there were rumours of hard words between the bard and the great Maglor. Fingolfin had discreetly discovered all he could, but only the fact that they had spoken with raised voices was known. He cursed the thorough sound-proofing of the Hall of Fire, and longed to know what they had argued about. When he had asked Gildis directly she had frowned, and answered "Music, sire, we were discussing the nature of music." From an Elf, such words would be impertinence, since all of Eä had been sung into being, but from a bard among Mortals...

   Fingolfin spoke reassuringly and stroked the grey neck of the nervous horse. There were seven wood-elves, circling their small troop, and Hador, as instinctively as Rochallor, had drawn his bow. But the wood-elves had no weapons in hand, and merely watched in silence until Rochallor huffed and settled.  
   "I am Maurn, watcher of the Birch-leaf clan. We gather herbs here on the plain, and we see you riding with this poor fellow, heavily burdened, running beside you. Do you torment him ? Are you in league with He who dwells in the North ? Speak softly, for there are more of us than you would suppose, and many weapons are trained upon you."  
   The Noldor looked at each other, and Fingolfin slid down and approached Maurn.  
   "Stars shine upon this, the hour of our meeting, Maurn of the Birch-leaf clan. I am Fingolfin son of Finwë, and I am called High King of my people. We rather fight than favour the Enemy of Arda. But this is Hador, of the House of Marach Aradan, a Mortal and a close friend. He has been given a steed, but prefers to run." Fingolfin smiled "Perhaps weary of the interminable speeches of the Elves..."

   Maurn looked thoughtfully at them, and Fingolfin marvelled at the perfection of their camouflage. Their cloaks were thin and light, woven of the very grasses amongst which they hid, almost without colour, a faded greyish brown, leached by the long summer of all green, or gold. It was a different kind of camouflage to the train of Oromë, where he himself had learned to hunt. There, stillness had been all, the beasts they pursued had lacked the ability to perceive colour, they could please themselves as to dress, and wore their colours, and jewels, with pride. But here in Beleriand, out on the open plain, with nothing but the riders of Maglor between themselves and Thangorodrim, the lightly-armed wood-elves must blend in, or become the prey, pursued by iron-shod orcs.  
   But Maurn beckoned to Hador "Will you speak with me, here ?" he gestured. Hador glanced at Fingolfin, but followed the wood-elf. Fingolfin stroked Rochallor absent mindedly, watching closely as his lover spoke softly with Maurn, wondering what they could be saying. Suddenly Maurn laughed and looked at Fingolfin, then straightened his face and led Hador back to them.  
   

   "All is well, High King Fingolfin of the Noldor people. Forgive our intrusion, but we sense the shadow rising and our hearts are troubled. We are vigilant even when naught is nigh. Walk in the starlight, son of Finwë !"  
"Maurn, it has been an honour to find you here, where we had considered ourselves alone. On behalf of my people, and of all civilized peoples, I honour your valour in challenging us to aid one whom you had never met, and I thank you for trying to rescue him from us. But we too have felt the shadow darken, and doubled our own watch. Alas for the marring ! But should the Enemy attack, we shall be ready to make Him regret his malice."  
   Maurn bowed briefly, and held up a hand "Farewell, Fingolfin." and with barely a ripple in the grasses, they were gone. The pale grey sky turned from being part of the cloak of the people of Maurn to the dull light of day. The Noldor looked about, it had been dream-like, the wood-elves appearing and vanishing, from nothing, out on the open plain. But Fingolfin spoke to Hador "Ride with me now, Lórindol, and rest your limbs."

   As the horses settled into the easy gait that effortlessly covered the leagues, Fingolfin turned to the still thoughtful Hador. "What did you say to Maurn to make him laugh so ?"  
Hador blinked and turned to Fingolfin, as though he had forgotten him "Maurn ? Oh, I told him that I needed to exercise to stay fit for your bed; after all, I am only a Mortal, and have not the endurance of an Elf. Nor the appetite."  
   "Appetite ! " exclaimed Fingolfin "It is you who are insatiable ! Oh Hador, what will they think of me ?"  
   Hador laughed "They will admire your vigour, and be heartened that their Captain will be ready to face the Enemy when the storm breaks. I hope... well, sometimes I hope that I will be there to stand at your side when the time comes. But..." he sighed and fell silent.              

   Fingolfin wondered if he was thinking of Gildis, and intending to leave him. The pain seemed absurdly great, as though sense and reason had no power to reach his heart, which would hear nothing of death, and the brief life of the Mortal, and insisted that Hador was an Elf, who would be always there, and always lovely.

   "I am only slowly coming to understand how very old you are, my lord, and how very strange. You look so like us, you look as young as I, your face is unlined, your hair... I love your hair, so smooth and dark... But the more of your peoples I come to know, the more I learn of you, well sire, it is as though I am on a small boat, and the water below me is black with unseen depths, bottomless depths... and I... am afraid."  
He looked again at Fingolfin, who wanted to take him in his arms and comfort him, but merely smiled sympathetically. But Hador continued "Then at Himring, Gildis and I, when we were together, it was like reaching the shore, stepping on solid ground, being home. And so I must think, and I think best when I am doing something, as running. Besides" he grinned at Fingolfin "You do have a keen appetite, and I do need to exercise, far more than one of your kind would. So my words to Maurn were true, but not all of the truth."  
   Fingolfin laughed "My appetite is keen ? Your appetite is a matter of song from here to Barad Eithel ! My appetite ! But what do your thoughts tell you ?"  
   Hador sighed "Impossible things, my lord. I cannot leave you. I cannot stay with you. I must live with Gildis. I must live with you. I trust the words of the seer, and indeed, I would have children of my own. But that would mean leaving, and I cannot." he took a great breath, and let it out slowly "I wish I could tell you how strange your people have become to me.  
   I have been a fool, taking you all for young, but brilliantly clever people, Mortals like me, but with keener minds. How wrong I have been, thinking only with my eyes, not even grasping the truth of that which I know to be so. Did you really see the Moon rise for the first time ? You ? It is beyond the grasp of my wit, Fingolfin, I can hardly believe it."  
  
   Fingolfin smiled "Oh Hador, it was one of the most beautiful things that ever happened to me, the rise of Tilion !  
   We were at the limits of even Elven endurance, the ice had taken its dreadful toll on our people, and it was almost in a last gesture of defiance that we blew our trumpets and raised our standards. And after so long in the shocking darkness, to see such light, such beauty, to see the land around us, the shore of the old world, our birthplace, our home, silvered by Tilion..." he felt the tears stand in his eyes, recalling the weeping joy of his desperate people, and the songs they had sung, and the looks of gratitude, as though he himself had caused the Moon to rise.

   But Hador brought Braig alongside Rochallor and laid his hand upon the arm of his lover

   "I know that you do not forget that which once you have seen. But let your mind turn to easier memories, for I cannot comfort you here. Maurn does not wish to have proof of who has the greater appetite !"  
    Fingolfin nodded "We shall make camp soon, but truly, I am not troubled by my memories. It is your doubts that fill my thoughts."  
   "Doubts ? I do not have doubts ! I know what I wish, but I wish for the impossible. How shall I proceed ?"

   Fingolfin looked intently at him "Would you hear my counsel, Hador Lórindol ?"  
   "My lord, I would beg for it !"  
   Fingolfin nodded "Perhaps it is not counsel, but foresight, though not a vision. You shall marry Gildis, and turn at times to me. None of us will be entirely happy, but we shall endure. I think that you do not love either of us as we would wish to be loved. And I do not think that we shall steal from each other, for that which you share with me is different to that which you share with Gildis. I... I only regret that you will perish, and that the little time we have together..."  
   "You see ? You speak of stealing, but you will begrudge every smile that I give to her, and to the children that will come. Do not deny it, for I trust your many words of love, and the truth of your heart. And I do love you, dear Fingolfin, but not enough to forfeit wedlock and fatherhood. My family expect it, I wish it, it must be done. And Gildis... Dear Gildis. I know that you like her, and admire her skill, and her gift. Still, at least she does not love me as you do. Her pain will be less, I think."

  
   Fingolfin laughed "Oh Hador, you speak of your ignorance of Elves, but tell me, young Mortal, what do you know of the hearts of your own people ? You told me that you had scarcely noticed Gildis, the great bard, because she was just there, all the time. But we noticed. Írimë and I saw her gazing adoringly at you when first you met. Of course she loves you ! Ah Elbereth...  
   The years hang heavy on me, Hador Lórindol, and you have much to learn !" He pressed Rochallor and the great grey horse sprang away. Behind him, Hador gaped, then smiled and whispered to Braig. The two horses raced forwards over the rippling grass, and the laughter of Fingolfin carried back to Maurn across the plain, and the watching Elves.

 

 


End file.
